# From: oldp@grug06.nor.chevron.com (Lawrence Perry)
{t:It Came Upon a Midnight Clear}
        
                It c[C]ame up[F]on a m[C]idnight clear
                That g[F]lorious s[D7]ong of o[G7]ld
                From [C]angels b[F]ending [C]near the earth
                To to[F]uch their h[G7]arps of g[C]old
                "Peace [E7]on the earth,  good w[Am]ill to men
                From he[G]aven's a[D7]ll gracious [G]King;"
                The w[C]orld in s[F]olemn s[C]tillness lay,
                To h[F]ear the a[G7]ngels s[C]ing

                Still through the cloven skies they come
                With peaceful wings unfurled,
                And still their heavenly music floats	
                O'er all the weary world
                Above its sad and lowly plains
                They bend on hovering wing;
                And ever o'er its Babel sounds
                The blessed angels sing.

                O ye, beneath life's crushing load
                Whose forms are bending low,
                Who toil along the climbing way
                With painful steps and slow
                Look now! for glad and golden hours
                Come swiftly on the wing;
                O rest beside the weary road
                And hear the angels sing